Clara Black and the Hidden Chamber

Detention

Since the pixie incident, Professor Lockhart hasn't brought any live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to the class, sometimes recanting the more dramatic bits.He usually picks Harry to help with the demonstrations; So far, Harry's been a Transylvanian Villager whom Lockhart cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire that's eaten nothing but lettuce since Lockhart dealt with him. Worst of all, I haven't taken a single blackmail video!

Our next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Harry was once again dragged up front, this time to be a werewolf. I told him to keep Lockhart in a good mood, so he went without a fight.

"Nice loud howl, Harry-exactly-and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced-like this-slammed him to the floor-thus-with one hand, I managed to hold him down-with my other, I put my wand to his throat-I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm-he let out a piteous moan-go on, Harry-higher than that-good-the fur vanished-the fangs shrank-and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective-and another village will remember me as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

I muttered to Ron as the bell rang, "Is it bad for me to wish the werewolf finished him off for us?"

Ron chuckled as Lockhart said, "Homework-compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room where Ron, Hermione, and I were waiting.

"Ready?" Harry mutters.

"Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously. "All right. . ."

She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Ron, Harry, and I right behind her. 

"Er-Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to-to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, hand shaking slightly. "But the ting is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, So I need a teacher to sign  for it-I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow acting venom-"

"Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer-"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. "Yes, nice isn't it?" He says, misreading the disgust clearly evident on my face. "I usually save it for book signings."

He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione. 

"So, Harry," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players. . . ."

Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat then hurried off after Ron, Hermione, and I.

"I don't believe it," Harry said as the four of us examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a brainless git," said Ron. "But who cares, we've got what we needed." 

I nodded in agreement.